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What have I done? Oh, this I asked myself time and again;― and more times yet I ask it still! What have I done?
Look, there! They lay before me, two bodies warmth draining. Their flesh clammy, waxy, pallid in the dreary light. Their limbs shrouded in the thickness of devourous fog― intangible hands, so white, near cousins to snow, grasping at their ankles and prepared, at any moment, to drag them into this bleak abyss! And their eyes! Two sets each, one pair black as the darkest pitch, and the other deep as running crimson. Their eyes, they did not run dry and wither within the sockets, sightlessly peering into heavens too distant to see. No, these eyes saw― these eyes saw me! What have I done to these eyes to make them look at me with such deep rooted horror that it expands into the depths of my own conscious and quakes all limbs attached to my core?
There! A clue! A clue to the heinous act that now escapes me! Moisture clung over the warm tone of her skin, but it was not the glistening of sweat that hugged her brow and fell gracelessly into her golden tresses. What dribbled was riddled with foaming bubbles and these matched what hung from my very lips― from my very chin― dropping to her very skin.
I drew my tongue over my teeth, feeling with this extraordinary muscle the hooked points of my lateral incisors and matching canines. These were capable of disastrous damage! The very design devised to puncture flesh in such a fashion that escape was futile without insurmountable pain. And these teeth― And I― were positioned just so that I could feel the heat rising from the fair jugular below, warming my horrified expression and enmeshing my starved stomach. With great gripe it complained into the stunned silence, a sole sound;― a nearly irresistible command.
There― on order! Oh, how I salivated! I tempted into their persuasive claws! Auras peaked, and my visioned tunneled, black flashes rimmed with flaring light! Delicate glitter invaded only my sight as I fought against them. For it was they who wrought such destruction, and in connection, I! What had I done?
Sheer fright compelled my heart into unrecommended speeds! They― Oh! They were getting stronger! Day by day! Night by night! I no longer knew if I can win this fight! My demons, those who take the form of innocent fungi, they speckle me. Clustering in devote mass against my back, sprouted in pit and thigh. Their roots, their mycelium, they are too deeply burrowed now! Woven intricately into the very construct of my brain! I fought them, viciously, painfully! I could not let them adjust to victory!
I breathed, shakily― hands trembling, vision swimming. I had some memories. Yes, that was right. I had hazy visions of the past and with effort I sought back. So long had I walked to arrive here at this place of play, starting out when the morning breath still crusted the wild flowers and emerging crops with shimmering lace. But what then happened upon arrival? There;― that is when it all unhinges! Glimpses greeted me in ephemeral fashion, and groping I clasped onto them― desperate to know what I had done. We fought, but how I did not want it! It was they that struck first! I saw through their eyes, and the others fought back with stubborn self-preservation, but to no avail. Paralyzing spores erupted from my person, and here my opponents, my prey, all now lay dusted in gold.
Quivering― I'm quivering, my mouth is dribbling, my eyes look down upon my meal. I swallow, my throat contracting around a sizable clot― suffocating, intoxicating, suffering, ravenous! Ravenous! My vision is blackening, my heart is maddening, my jaws are spreading!
"No!" I cry, closing not one, but both my eye! In utter blackness, I cannot see! Leaning back, I cannot smell! Covering my ears, I cannot hear! I cannot hear their hearts! Their hearts pumping, pumping, pumping blood! I am gasping, crying, tears are streaming, my mouth incredibly salty. Defeated! I feel defeated! I feel my body drag down to the playground sand and I weep, for I have won.
Look, there! They lay before me, two bodies warmth draining. Their flesh clammy, waxy, pallid in the dreary light. Their limbs shrouded in the thickness of devourous fog― intangible hands, so white, near cousins to snow, grasping at their ankles and prepared, at any moment, to drag them into this bleak abyss! And their eyes! Two sets each, one pair black as the darkest pitch, and the other deep as running crimson. Their eyes, they did not run dry and wither within the sockets, sightlessly peering into heavens too distant to see. No, these eyes saw― these eyes saw me! What have I done to these eyes to make them look at me with such deep rooted horror that it expands into the depths of my own conscious and quakes all limbs attached to my core?
There! A clue! A clue to the heinous act that now escapes me! Moisture clung over the warm tone of her skin, but it was not the glistening of sweat that hugged her brow and fell gracelessly into her golden tresses. What dribbled was riddled with foaming bubbles and these matched what hung from my very lips― from my very chin― dropping to her very skin.
I drew my tongue over my teeth, feeling with this extraordinary muscle the hooked points of my lateral incisors and matching canines. These were capable of disastrous damage! The very design devised to puncture flesh in such a fashion that escape was futile without insurmountable pain. And these teeth― And I― were positioned just so that I could feel the heat rising from the fair jugular below, warming my horrified expression and enmeshing my starved stomach. With great gripe it complained into the stunned silence, a sole sound;― a nearly irresistible command.
There― on order! Oh, how I salivated! I tempted into their persuasive claws! Auras peaked, and my visioned tunneled, black flashes rimmed with flaring light! Delicate glitter invaded only my sight as I fought against them. For it was they who wrought such destruction, and in connection, I! What had I done?
Sheer fright compelled my heart into unrecommended speeds! They― Oh! They were getting stronger! Day by day! Night by night! I no longer knew if I can win this fight! My demons, those who take the form of innocent fungi, they speckle me. Clustering in devote mass against my back, sprouted in pit and thigh. Their roots, their mycelium, they are too deeply burrowed now! Woven intricately into the very construct of my brain! I fought them, viciously, painfully! I could not let them adjust to victory!
I breathed, shakily― hands trembling, vision swimming. I had some memories. Yes, that was right. I had hazy visions of the past and with effort I sought back. So long had I walked to arrive here at this place of play, starting out when the morning breath still crusted the wild flowers and emerging crops with shimmering lace. But what then happened upon arrival? There;― that is when it all unhinges! Glimpses greeted me in ephemeral fashion, and groping I clasped onto them― desperate to know what I had done. We fought, but how I did not want it! It was they that struck first! I saw through their eyes, and the others fought back with stubborn self-preservation, but to no avail. Paralyzing spores erupted from my person, and here my opponents, my prey, all now lay dusted in gold.
Quivering― I'm quivering, my mouth is dribbling, my eyes look down upon my meal. I swallow, my throat contracting around a sizable clot― suffocating, intoxicating, suffering, ravenous! Ravenous! My vision is blackening, my heart is maddening, my jaws are spreading!
"No!" I cry, closing not one, but both my eye! In utter blackness, I cannot see! Leaning back, I cannot smell! Covering my ears, I cannot hear! I cannot hear their hearts! Their hearts pumping, pumping, pumping blood! I am gasping, crying, tears are streaming, my mouth incredibly salty. Defeated! I feel defeated! I feel my body drag down to the playground sand and I weep, for I have won.
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Round 2 - Sawyer vs Sirath vs Mother Cele
Word Count: 707
Another tough round!
Between Matisse and Poe, I had to pick the latter due to my affection towards his works. I enjoyed this exploration, and veering from the usual Poe works I see (The Tell-Tale Heart, The Raven, The Pit and the Pendulum, etc...) to look at his other works! I was on the verge of using To Isadore as an inspiration, or The Shadow, but instead I decided to try and capture his voice and themes after reading a multitude of his works.
Some notes:
- For those of you who have never experienced auras, they come before migraines, blacking out, and in more instances. Generally, they begin as sparkles at the edge of one's vision before becoming black flashes.
- Mother Cele is a Paras nearing her Parasect years, and thus loses herself more and more often to the parasitoid fungi that infect her. Her episodes are generally triggered by hunger (the growing fungi need more nutrients as they swell in number and size) or extreme stress (the fungi realizes its host is in danger, thus itself, and defends the host).
Short Story, Cele (c) ElfSama
Sawyer (c) RockyDee
Sirath (c) Wiree
Inspiration - Edgar Allen Poe
Word Count: 707
Another tough round!
Between Matisse and Poe, I had to pick the latter due to my affection towards his works. I enjoyed this exploration, and veering from the usual Poe works I see (The Tell-Tale Heart, The Raven, The Pit and the Pendulum, etc...) to look at his other works! I was on the verge of using To Isadore as an inspiration, or The Shadow, but instead I decided to try and capture his voice and themes after reading a multitude of his works.
Some notes:
- For those of you who have never experienced auras, they come before migraines, blacking out, and in more instances. Generally, they begin as sparkles at the edge of one's vision before becoming black flashes.
- Mother Cele is a Paras nearing her Parasect years, and thus loses herself more and more often to the parasitoid fungi that infect her. Her episodes are generally triggered by hunger (the growing fungi need more nutrients as they swell in number and size) or extreme stress (the fungi realizes its host is in danger, thus itself, and defends the host).
Short Story, Cele (c) ElfSama
Sawyer (c) RockyDee
Sirath (c) Wiree
Inspiration - Edgar Allen Poe
© 2017 - 2024 ElfSama
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Poor Mother Cele! Oh, how I could truly feel her torment in this beautiful dark piece! It's chilling!